


Catch My Fall

by SgurrDearg



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-04-23 15:09:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4881508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SgurrDearg/pseuds/SgurrDearg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Dragon Age AU- based upon the premise of what if Anders had escaped to Tevinter after the events in Kirkwall? and what if he had met a certain Tevinter Altus before *he* joined the Inquisition? Two mages with difficult upbringings are brought together by the very thing that had caused them such strife.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Major thanks to HTFNoelle for beta-ing this thoroughly for me and easing my insecurities, she is a SUPERSTAR and helped SO much <3 Also thanks to Pentaghast-senpai for reading the first few paragraphs and helping me start to fix them!
> 
> This is due to be quite a long fic, despite this being a rare pair ship. But dammit, they are good for each other and it needs to be explored. In depth. Over several chapters. I hope you enjoy! I also hope you will board this lonely ship and stick around for the rest of their story. I'm very excited to tell it. I can't promise it will be all smiles, but they might make it a little easier for each other for the duration.
> 
> Possible triggers in this prologue: alcohol use mention, brief mention of blood.

  Anders ran. He didn’t need to delay. Nothing mattered anymore; everything could be left behind. He ran. Past the scattered debris, past the buildings set aflame. Was this all his fault? NO; Justice stopped that train of thought. He paused for breath, gasping against a pillar. He was _alive._ He had done it. The blighted Knight Commander was dead. Her plans were in ashes, and he was _alive_.

  Anders sighed, wiping the sweat and blood from his face. He had managed to save some of the mages. He had given them time, at least. He was certain of that. But the city was in chaos and he wasn’t sure how much damage the Templars had done after. He snorted. He could certainly guess.

  He sighed again, fighting back tears of anger? Confusion? Something else. He couldn’t tell. He had fully expected Hawke to put him to death after his plan had been completed. She’d been a good enough friend… but he always did expect the worst. Instead, she had asked him to fight alongside her for one last time and had given him time to escape Kirkwall. To _run_.

  Anders could feel Justice nudging at the edge of his mind, imploring him to carry on running. If he survived this, he could do so much more for the cause. That was something to live for, wasn’t it? He took one more breath and steeled himself. Then he ran.

***

  The door slammed behind Dorian, startling the brightly coloured birds in the trees and causing them to screech and squawk at him. He tutted in response and straightened his clothes out before striding out, staff on his back and possessions thrown unceremoniously together in a bag. He looked like a _peasant_. Dorian puffed his chest out as he left the estate, trying to retain a sense of dignity. At least he was a well-dressed peasant.

  Dorian continued out onto the bustling streets. What was the point in everything he and Alexius had achieved? What was the point in aiming for more? It would change nothing for Felix. Oh, Felix… Dorian exhaled sadly. He hadn’t wanted to leave his best friend, but he just couldn’t support the Magister’s plans any longer. Perhaps he could have approached that conversation a little more delicately…

  No. No, he did just fine. Of course, that was why he had ended up kicked out of the estate and homeless… Dorian rolled his eyes. He needed a drink.

  He didn’t have to walk for very long before reaching a tavern. Minrathous was teeming with the things, and right now he wasn’t particularly picky. Having procured himself a snifter of brandy, he reclined in a rickety chair in the corner of the room and surveyed the scene. It wasn’t pretty. Refugees everywhere with their clothes in tatters and weary expressions hunched over mugs of ale. This was to become his fate, if his father and Alexius had anything to do with it. But not if _he_ did. Dorian took a large swig of the brandy. He signalled to the bartender to send over the whole bottle. Time to have a little amusement for a change.


	2. After the Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders arrives in Minrathous, whilst Dorian enjoys his freedom. Warnings: alcohol consumption.
> 
> *Festis bei umo canavarum= You will be the death of me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long! Two bad ME/CFS flare-ups combined with a crappy holiday period, lots of schoolwork and no motivation (at least, to work on this, I also churned out a 8000+ Anders fic for the DABB in that time too.) Here you go, I doubt the next chapter will take me so long :)

Anders had walked for many miles. It had taken over a month to get to Vyrantium, if he had counted correctly. It was difficult to keep track. The days seemed to slip between his fingers like sand, but that was ok. If there was one thing he had an abundance of now, it was time. He took a deep breath in and smelled the salt on the air.

It hadn’t taken as long as he had feared to gain passage on a ship to Minrathous; it seemed healers were still as in demand in Tevinter as in the rest of Thedas. For the first time in months, a semblance of a smile appeared on Anders’ lips. He could be safe here. The farther away from Kirkwall he sailed, the safer he felt. Both he and Justice could be secure here, perhaps even accepted. He just prayed it wasn’t too much to hope.

He walked over to the edge of the ship, the boards creaking underfoot as he stepped. The coastline was visible now. It was getting closer, perhaps only a few hours more sailing before they reached the Tevinter capital. Before the sun set, at least. Anders wasn’t sure what his plans were, exactly. Find an inn. Somewhere safe to sleep. He wouldn’t go to the Circle, he couldn’t trust them. It didn’t matter if Tevinter was supposed to be ruled by mages, the thought of the Circle made his stomach clench.

Anders focused on the horizon, feeling Justice trying to soothe his thoughts. It had been a hard time for him too, constantly telling Anders that what he did was _right_ , it was worth it. They had done something good for the whole of Thedas. But still Anders was wracked with doubt and he could sense Justice sighing. _Give it time._ He nodded and stared at the ever approaching coastline.

He turned his thoughts back to Tevinter and the possibilities ahead of them, mulling over his first steps. He didn’t have a lot of coin; it was something he preferred not to accept as payment of his services. Most of the time his patients were refugees or in poverty themselves, they could scarcely afford food, let alone a healer. It wouldn’t be right to ask that of them. However, coin was something he needed right now. He could try and offer healing services in return for a room somewhere, but whether or not that would work… _Andraste’s knickers_.

He’d had better plans. Then again, he’d had worse too and he had survived so far. He smiled weakly as he felt waves of calm wash over him from Justice. They would be ok. Somehow.

 

***

 

Raucous laughter filled the room as Dorian slammed his flagon down, wiping tears from his eyes.

“That’s not all, you know. His mistress thought it was a frog too!” Dorian slunk down in his chair, chuckling as one of his drinking companions, Cosmo, clapped him on the shoulder.

“Dorian, you are too much! Say, I think we need another round…” Cosmo gestured to a waiter and smiled at him with glittering green eyes. The waiter nodded and walked away. “Come on, chaps, I’m not spending all my gold on you. Cough up!”

Dorian rolled his eyes at his friend and reached into his coin purse; there were not as many coins jangling about as there had been a few days ago. He’d burned through it fast. Pretending he had no concerns, he threw down a few into the growing pile on the table and continued to slurp his drink. He could fuss about that another time, there was certainly enough to last him a few more days of debauchery. He chuckled at a joke one of the others had said, barely hearing it. It had been enough trouble going into the bank beforehand.

Funnily enough, cutting one off from one’s family did not make accessing their gold an easy task. Even if it was rightfully his. He’d managed to live off a rather generous stipend from Magister Alexius over the past few years and had become quite accustomed to that lifestyle. Worrying over coin… this was a new experience for him and not an enjoyable one at that. Still, he thought, downing his drink, he would worry about that tomorrow.

The waiter returned with a fine bottle of brandy, much better than the Dwarven piss they’d been suffering through. This was worth being out of pocket, he smirked to himself. Cosmo deftly poured the liquor into glasses and handed them to the group, ordering them to drink up. He swung back into his seat, his long brown hair flopping over the back of the seat and he grinned at Dorian.

“You better drink up, Dorian, they’ve got more in the back. Can’t let such fine drink go to waste now, can we!” He nudged the bottom of Dorian’s glass towards his mouth.

“Cosmo, festis bei umo canavarum.” Dorian rolled his eyes at him, before complying and downing the alcohol. It burned his throat as he swallowed it and he fought the urge to cough. Sober, he could drink quickly with few ill effects. Few instant ill effects, that is. But on several pints of ale, Dorian had rather lost control of himself. He spluttered, much to Cosmo’s amusement.

“More? Or have you had enough?”

“More.”

 

***

 

The sky was a bright gold and pink when Anders finally set foot in Minrathous. It was a warm night, far balmier than he was used to. It was pleasant. With barely any coin in his pocket, it made the prospect of sleeping in an alleyway somewhere seem less harsh. He trudged along the paved streets and marvelled at the sights.

The docks were far grander than Kirkwall’s had been. The buildings all seemed to be made of stone, although some were dirty and crumbling. He saw the burning wooden shacks of Kirkwall’s undercity in his mind and shuddered at the memory. To find himself in such a contrast was nice. Safe. In time he could learn to forget his fear, learn to be a citizen of value. Rather than hide away and expect to be imprisoned at any time.

He walked around, trying to get his bearings. It was a strange feeling, the freedom to explore at will. At last, he had the luxury of getting to know a place. As Anders entered the city’s heart, the large marble buildings grew in both size and grandeur. Large stone snakes wound themselves around golden pillars, snarling at glittering dragon statues on the rooftops. The carvings’ beauty was not marred by their chipped scales, especially not to Anders, who had never seen such architecture in all his life.

Even more beautiful, however, were the mages walking down the streets, openly carrying their staffs or magical tomes. They were smiling, laughing, talking animatedly with friends. There was no fear in their eyes. There were guards, yes, but missing was the predatory gleam in their eyes that Anders had become so resigned to. It was overwhelming. He caught a lump in his throat and leaned against the closest building, trying to calm himself down. His time in Tevinter so far had been good, but he had kept his head down and his walking speed fast. If he had stayed too close to the border he could have been dragged back by Free Marcher Templars at any time, international rules be damned. He had no idea if the rest of Tevinter was like this, even Vyrantium he had left within an hour of arriving, but to Anders, Minrathous was the greatest city in all of Thedas.

Looking at his feet, Anders realised he could barely see his shadow. The sun had almost set, and he still needed to find a place to stay for the night. He looked at the street once more; it was too grand for the likes of him. He slipped down a side-alley, hoping to find a poorer side of town. It took very little time, only two streets away he stumbled across a row of dilapidated buildings. Minrathous obviously had more in common with Kirkwall than he had thought, but this was irrelevant. Poverty upset him, but it was something he could help with; something he wanted to help with. It wasn’t as if he could enter into high society just by merit of his magical abilities.

Anders found an inn and entered. It was loud and hazy inside, with the patrons gathered around tables smoking from large glass apparatuses filled with coloured liquids. The bartender was a portly man with dark eyes and a trimmed beard, who wiped his hands on a dirty cloth and narrowed his eyes at the stranger walking in.

“Hello, do you have a room?”

The man glared even more at Anders and shook his head slightly. “Not open to foreigners.”

Anders instinctively reached down to his coin purse and patted it lightly, hoping it looked fuller than it was.

The bartender simply sneered at him, “no good. Get out.”

Anders left quickly, before he aroused the attention of any of the customers. Clearly the dishevelled traveller look did him no favours here, either. He was lucky he was used to cold receptions, but it never hurt any less. He resolved not to give in, it would be safer to find a roof for the night until he could gauge the city better, and he walked down another alley to find a less selective part of town.

 

***

 

“Out! Get OUT!”

Once again, Dorian found himself being thrown out of a front door. Mercifully this time, so were his friends. They screeched with laughter as the furious barmaid all but kicked them. Cosmo blew her a kiss and bowed deeply, stumbling backwards over the paving stones and giggling. The door slammed behind him.

Dorian did his best to straighten his clothes and smooth out his hair, which was hindered by Cosmo grabbing his arm.

“Dorian, we simply MUST find a new drinking spot before the morning. I WILL not see the sunrise sober, I forbid it.”

“Ahh, Cosmo, I have no coin left and I fear if I drink any more I will not see the sunrise at all…” Dorian waved his free arm dramatically and pulled away.

“No coin! Oh NO!”

“Oh no, indeed, dear friend. I’m afraid I must retire to my rooms. We will see the sunrise tomorrow, once I have been to the bank.”

“I will hold you to that!” Cosmo gripped Dorian in a fierce hug before calling out to the rest of their friends, “fellows, onwards! To the next one!”

Dorian waved goodbye to him and walked along, occasionally glancing back to see if the crowd were still in sight. As soon as they were far enough away, he turned down one of the many alleyways that dotted the city streets. His “rooms” as it were. No money, a bad reputation and a penchant for being thrown out of taverns had done little for his living situation. Now without the coin to pay for drink, the bank visit was ever more important. Drink made it all bearable.

He walked down the alley and stumbled, his foot caught in something unseen. He felt at it with the tips of his toes and conjured a wisp to get a closer look. He recoiled. It was a body.

Of course, walking in the unsavoury part of town he was almost used to this. And, yes, certainly, being a necromancer he was very used to working with bodies. But it didn’t make bumping into one any less of a shock.

He nudged at the body again and grimaced at it.

“Mmph.”

The body grunted.

Oh dear. He was a lot more inebriated than he had thought. Now he was hearing talking corpses. How delightful. He stepped over it carefully and continued down the alley, one hand on the wall to steady himself.

“Hmmph.”

He whipped around and stared at the corpse again. It was _moving._ Oh, Maker, he was not capable of a fight right now. Oh Maker, now it was _looking right at him._

The corpse was shuffling on the ground, pulling itself up… into a sitting position. It was still looking at him.

“Begone, foul creature!”

It rubbed its eyes and looked at him.

“I said, begone!”

“I’m sorry?”

Dorian frowned. The corpse could speak. He directed the wisp back to the body to get another look. It didn’t seem aggressive, just… tired. And… alive. The wisp hovered over its face and Dorian could see it was actually a he, and _he_ was looking very confused.

“You’re not a corpse.”

“What? No. Do I look like one?”

Dorian came closer and knelt down. The man had a long, pointed face with several days’ worth of stubble peppering his cheeks and an unkempt mop of blond hair. He looked even more exhausted under direct light.

“My apologies. I’m not entirely sober, and I’m afraid you chose to lie down in the prime dumping ground of Minrathous.”

He sighed. “I couldn’t find anything better.”

“Like I said, there _are_ no better dumping grounds.”

The man smiled and looked at Dorian with bleary amber eyes. “Is there anywhere better to sleep? I got turned away by all the inns I could find.”

“Well, I’m not welcome at many inns either. I do know a better corner of the city, though. My name is Dorian, by the way. Dorian Pavus; disgraced Altus and the best dressed hobo in Minrathous.” He stood up and slammed a palm against the wall as the alley span. Ground still again, he held out his hand to the man on the floor.

“Anders.” He took Dorian’s hand, who pulled him up. “My name’s Anders. Thank you.”

“For waking you and accusing you of being an abomination?” Dorian chuckled.

Wincing at the word, Anders simply smiled and walked beside him. He was tall, Dorian noticed.

“You’re new in Minrathous, then. Where did you travel from?”

“Vyrantium. Before that… Ferelden.”

They didn’t talk much whilst walking. The alcohol was wearing off, leaving Dorian eager to curl up and sleep, and by the looks of it Anders needed a rest just as much.

The shabby buildings gave way to better maintained ones once again, and here and there small serpentine statuettes began popping up in the architecture. The buildings were sparser in this part of town, and the two men soon arrived at a small garden.

They stepped through the wrought iron gate onto a curving mosaic path surrounded by carefully manicured lawns and tall trees. A large fountain in the shape of a sea serpent stood in the centre of the garden, water gushing out of its stone maw. Lining the paths were poles topped with cages filled with wisps; their light dancing on the tiles and sparkling on the water.

Dorian heard Anders exhale slowly at the sight. It certainly was a beautiful spot. He glanced over at his new companion, who was staring at the wisplights, his eyes wide with wonder.

“It’s rather more agreeable than an alleyway, wouldn’t you say?”

“Mm,” Anders nodded, still fixated on the lights. “Are those… spirits?”

“Yes. Well, wisps. The lighting of choice all over, you’ll get used to it. I take it you didn’t spend long in Vyrantium then?”

“No… not long. I’m not used to seeing magic used so openly. It’s… strangely uplifting.”

“Uplifting? Tevinter?” Dorian let out a loud chuckle. “Now that’s something new. Come.”

He gestured for Anders to follow him along the paths to a corner of the garden. His corner of the garden, as it were. He knelt down under a leafy shrub with cascading white flowers, and patted the ground next to him. “The best seat in the city!”

Dorian surveyed the view as Anders settled down next to him. The sun was beginning to rise, and the sky was changing from indigo to lavender mottled with grey. They were quite high up, and beyond the fence the ground dropped off, allowing them a view of the city below and the sea beyond. He felt behind the branches and breathed with relief as he gripped his staff and bag; they were still hidden.

“I can assure you I do not usually spend my nights outside.” He muttered to Anders, as he leaned against the shrub’s branches.

“I wouldn’t judge you if you did.”

“I- thank you. I’m sorry if I offended you.”

“No. I’ve had my share of nights out in the cold. I’m used to the reactions by now.” He gave a dry laugh.

Dorian smiled in spite of himself. “A mage sleeping outside in Ferelden? From what I’ve heard, that’s risky business.”

“It was.”

“Well, I would love to hear all about it. Perhaps I may even share some of my own misdeeds. But first, I must sleep off this drink, if you’ll excuse me. It was a pleasure to meet you, Anders.”

“And you. Thank you.” Anders lay down on the grass next to him, using his pack as a pillow.

Dorian smiled in reply, too tired to care if it had actually been noticed. He slid down until he was lying on the ground and curled his arm under his head. He hoped this would be the last night he’d have to spend outside; he would have to see what the day would bring.


End file.
